


Had our eyes on you

by ConfundusCharm



Category: BioShock Infinite
Genre: Blow Jobs, Multi, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Smut, Threesome - F/M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-30
Updated: 2013-04-30
Packaged: 2017-12-09 23:38:44
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,902
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/779291
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ConfundusCharm/pseuds/ConfundusCharm
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Just an excuse to write some Booker/Lutece smut. No plot really...just porn.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Had our eyes on you

**Author's Note:**

> Sorry for any typos...I didn't have anyone proof read it... :D;

Every fiber of his being felt as if it was ablaze, with every bone shattered into little fragments. He was paralyzed to the pain that seemed to cripple even the smallest of movements. Darkness lingered on the edged of his vision threatening to swallow him up whole. 

“Well, Dewitt...ya really fucked up this time, “ the man murmured to himself, wincing as guilt seized up his heart. Elizabeth. He failed her. He couldn’t save her after all. 

It was all too easy to let his eyes slip closed, giving up every shred of hope he had. Until he heard an annoyed click of a tongue above him, wrenching him from his self-loathing. “He’s certainly made a mess of himself, didn’t he?” He knew that cool, emotionally detached voice instantly. Lutece. 

“Hm, indeed. Is it worth fixing this one?” And there was the feminine part of the equation that made up the twins. What was their names again? Ronald and Regina? No, that wasn’t right. Robert and Rosalind, there it was. He couldn’t seem to escape the pair of scientist, always showing at the oddest moments. 

Gritting his teeth with a growl, he forced his eyes open to glare at them, “N-Not you two again.” 

“Looks like he’s still got some fight left in him. It would be a waste not to save him,” the male half drawled, rolling up the sleeves of his blazer. Stepping around Booker’s bloodied mess of a body, he crouched behind him and started lifting him up by the shoulders, ignoring the man’s pained shouts and protests. “Are you going to help at all, or just stand there?” 

The darkness finally won out and engulfed Booker’s mind as the white hot pain grew too much to bare with the red haired man carelessly heaving his body about. When he came to again, he found himself blinking against the warm sunlight filtering through the window above him. He appeared to be in kitchen, clean white walls and cabinets around him, the smell of lemon cleaner heavy in the air. As he shifted, he wrinkled his nose, blinking down at himself. He was sprawled out on a bed of felt like burlap bags, with his torso completely stripped of all clothing, save the neat bandages wrapped around his wounds. 

“It’s about time you woke up.” 

The voice startled Booker, instinctively reaching for weapons that were missing from their holsters. His whole body tensed up defensively, gaping down at the man kneeling between his legs. It was starting to grate on his nerves how these two always seemed to appear out of thin air. 

“Hey! Ya mind back up!” Booker shouted, trying to scramble away, only to hiss and still, finding his wounds were still too fresh to disturb. 

“You really shouldn’t strain yourself like that. Or you’ll pop all those stitches I worked so hard on,” Rosalind snapped, placing a firm hand on his shoulder to keep him still. 

“Why can’t you two just leave me the hell alone,” Booker growled through a grimace. He nearly jumped out of his skin as Robert’s gentle hand started rubbing at the tension building in his muscles, starting at his thigh, just above his knee. 

“Tut, tut. Where are your manners, Mr. Dewitt. We just saved your life, may I remind you,” the red haired man cooed, a smirk on his lips as he started rubbing up the other man’s leg. 

Swallowing thickly, Booker tried to shift away, hating his body for reacting in favor of the attention, feeling the ache slowly fade from his exerted muscles. He would never admit how long it had been since he had any form of intimate attention. 

“You must forgive Robert,” Rosalind said softly, close to his ear, “He has had his eyes on you from some time now. He is also terribly handsy when he wants something.” The red haired pair shared a look over Booker’s shoulder, putting a smirk on both of their lips. It made the injured man’s stomach twist, getting a sense that he had fallen prey to this bizarre trap set by the twins. 

“This is messed up,” Booker breathed out, “I know some people are into the twin thing-” 

“We are not twins, if it eases your mind at all,” Robert cut him off quickly, his hands venturing further up Booker’s inner thighs. 

Booker gave him a dry look, “Do I look like an idiot? You two are almost identical. Look, I’m flattered, but I don’t want any part of this.” 

“We are identical. We’re the same person, just separated by a single chromosome, but we do not share the same parents,” Rosalind explained coolly, idly rubbing at Bookers broad shoulders, trying to coax him into complying. She was willing to be patient, only for Roberts sake. 

“That don’t make any sense at all,” Booker bit back a groan as Robert’s damn hands found the “v” of his hips, teasingly rubbing at the outline of the growing bulge in his trousers. 

Rosalind let out a frustrated noise, shifting to start peppering little kisses against Booker’s neck, “I don’t expect you to understand, not yet at least. But when have you ever cared about morals, hm?” 

Fair point. Tilting his head back with a sigh and shifting his legs farther apart, “Ya got me there.” 

Robert took the new position as complete permission and submission, “You won’t regret this, Mr. Dewitt. Let us take all your aches and pains away.” Leaning in, bracing himself on Booker’s hips, Robert nosed at the man’s length briefly, dragging the tip of his nose from root to tip. 

A long hiss escaped Booker’s lips, suddenly under the attention of both twins, with Rosalind marking his neck with little nips and sucks. Pleasure started pooling more south, making his erection strain against the fabric of his trousers, giving more for Robert to mouth at. Finding the tip of his cock, Robert sucked and lapped at it through the rough, thick fabric, leaving a growing wet mark.   
“W-Why don’t ya just take off my damn pants already,” Booker growled, hoping the desperate hitch in his voice went unnoticed. 

Gazing up at Booker lazily, his green eyes half lidded, Robert pulled back slowly, “My, my. Aren’t we impatient. I suppose I could.” 

Taking his time just to spite the other man, Robert’s slim fingers plucked at his belt and buttons, slowly easing the trousers and undergarments from his legs. Rosalind paused for a moment, taking a break from marking up Booker’s tanned skin with her soft lips to enjoy the view. She made an impressed noise at the back of her throat, warming her hands up and down Booker’s bulky biceps. 

“I am pleasantly surprised, aren’t you, dear Robert?” She hummed softly, sliding her smooth cheek against Booker’s scruffy jaw to watch. 

Robert couldn’t help but give his own lips a cheeky lick, reaching to wrap his hand around the girth of Booker’s cock. It twitched eagerly in his grasp, causing Booker to swear underneath his breath. “That I am,” Robert breathed out as he scooted closer, pressing a chaste kiss to the tip. 

Booker’s head came to rest back against Rosalind’s delicate shoulder, squeezing his eyes shut as Robert’s lips closed around his cock, suckling at him gently. He gasped loudly against Rosalind’s cheek as a pleasurable tremor wracking his body. The woman shifted behind him, supporting his upper body against her front as her fingers found their way into his short hair. Her nails scraped against his scalp in a way that sent shivers down his spin, unable to hold back his deep moan. 

“My Robert has always been very talented with his mouth, would you agree Mr. Dewitt?” She whispered against his ear, her gazed focused solely on Robert and the way his lips slid against Booker’s shaft. 

“F-Fuck...Yeah, I agree,” Booker ground out as Robert started bobbing on his cock, swirling his tongue every time he reached the tip. 

Turning his head slightly while reaching up behind him, Booker buried his fingers in Rosalind’s neatly styled hair, pulling the silky strands from the tight bun. As her lips parted to gasp in surprised, Booker tugged her closer, closing the gap between them by sealing their lips together. 

Robert paused as he blinked up at the two, his mouth still filled with Booker’s cock. He held his breath, curious to see if Rosalind would accept the kiss or smack the man for his boldness. Robert knew from experience that Rosalind rarely submitted to anyone. 

It was to the surprise of everyone when Rosalind melted into the kiss, immediately teasing Booker's lips apart with her tongue, delving into his mouth with a restrained moan. Booker found himself now trapped between the pair; Robert's tongue wrapped around his cock, with Rosalind's battling his own for dominance. Pleasure raced through Booker's veins, gathering low in his gut as he started rolling his hip, fucking Robert's pretty mouth. The man between his legs took the new movement with ease, not even faltering when the head of Booker's cock nudged the back of his throat. 

It was clear Robert was no stranger to this, completely relaxed and pliant to Booker's every whim. Rosalind on the other hand was demanding, nipping and sucking at his bottom lip, swirling their tongues together in an erotic slide, never once letting up her control. His climax was suddenly barreling forward, knowing he wouldn't last much longer trapped between these two. His length twitched in warning as he started to tense up, his back arching off the bed of burlap bags. 

Rosalind swallowed down his grunts and moans as he finally snapped, his cock pulsing as he spurted thickly into Robert's warm mouth and down his throat. Spunk escaped the corners of Robert's mouth, pulling off of Booker to lick his own lips clean with a satisfied grin. As Rosalind and Booker finally separated, the man's head swam, overwhelmed and lightheaded from his earlier blood loss and spine tingling pleasure. 

"Looks like we may have broken him," Rosalind sighed, guiding Booker to lay flat, "It's a shame." 

Robert hummed in agreement, working on slipping Booker's trousers back onto him, buttoning him back up, "I was looking forward to playing with him more. But there-" 

"- is always next time," Rosalind finished his sentence, smiling fondly down at Robert, "I think this one might just work." 

"Oh, but you said that about the last one, and look where he ended up." 

As the two started bickering back and forth, Booker tried speaking up to question them, only to find it was getting harder and harder to resist the welcoming darkness of sleep. Muttering to himself, he slipped into unconsciousness, only wake much later to the sun setting outside the kitchen window. Forcing himself to sit up, he found his clothing had been replaced as if they were never disturbed to begin with. His body felt healed and whole again, with no pains to complain of. There was absolutely no trace or sign that the Lutece were ever there, which didn't really surprise him. 

"Alright, looks like we still got a girl to find," he grumbled as he stood, grabbing his various weapons from the counter. In the back of his mind, curiosity burned brightly about odd pair, wondering he would meet them again, but he really couldn't focus on it now. But there was still hope.


End file.
